Aspenglow
by aditou
Summary: Iruka is used to the harsh and lonely winters in his family's mountain home. This time, however, he has a strange, one eyed wolf for company. AU, KakaIru
1. Part I

**Title:** Aspenglow  
**Fandom/ Pairing:** Naruto/ KakaIru  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warnings:** Slash, AU  
**Challenge: **Written for the KakaIru Christmas song challenge; "Aspenglow"

* * *

The wolf came to him exactly ten days before Christmas, while the mountain slumbered under the weight of its own frozen mass. It was a time of year Iruka Umino did not so much anticipate as quietly cherish; though his sun-tanned flesh could hardly withstand winter's icy breath, he felt nothing but love for the stillness the season brought to his home. The Umino house—a cabin in almost every respect—had sat alone on Mt. Aspenglow for over three generations prior to Iruka's birth, but the sense of responsibility towards its upkeep was strong within him yet, especially given that the cabin held the last traces of his parents' memory. While most people who claimed residence on Aspenglow scattered with the first snow flurries, Iruka remained with the small sum he'd accumulated over the past year. It was enough to keep him and the house through the harsh winter. No time brought him less surprise or more peace—until the wolf appeared.

Iruka first saw it while on one of his daily treks to and from the wood shed. The cabin's sole source of heat came from a large hearth in his den, which required near-constant feeding in order to maintain a bearable temperature. Heaps of snow blazed in the pale winter sunlight; he shuffled through them, an armful of wood slowing his normally brisk pace. It was only a spare glance toward a path leading up the mountain that brought him into eye contact with the creature. It stood perfectly still, all sinew and teeth, dull-knife coat matted with traces of dirt and ice. Though there appeared to be some distance between them, Iruka's heart stopped when he realized he could see the wolf's sharply intelligent right eye was without a matching partner—thick scar tissue overlapped where the other should have been.

His parents had mentioned wolves, but they were the stuff of legend, of fairytales. None had been spotted since his grandfather's time, Iruka's mother had explained once; besides, the recent real estate boom on Aspenglow had likely driven away any elusive stragglers. And yet here in front of him stood a wolf, as fine and mighty as they came in spite of the desperation that hung about its emaciated form. The ability to move, to think, to breathe left Iruka completely, and his world shrank to accommodate nothing but the wolf and him. The creature was trembling, hackles raised as a hungry growl started up in its breast.

Poor thing, Iruka couldn't help but think despite his own danger. You must be starving. You wouldn't spare me a glance otherwise.

As if to confirm his theory, the wolf's lips pulled back in a predatory grimace. It had made its decision. In an instant it leapt like quicksilver across the snow, pelting towards Iruka with the speed of a winter storm. All the young man registered was the force of the wolf's paws as they pinned him to the snow-shrouded earth, the flash of teeth a hair-length from his throat—and then silence.

Iruka had fully expected death, pain even more so, but little save a tense silence greeted him in the heartbeats following the assault. Eyes opening hesitantly, he was met with a direct gaze that, for all its awareness and depth, should have been human. Time seemed as frozen as the landscape under the wolf's bright and weary eye. Iruka was immobile, but not unaware of the red smeared across its underbelly. Blood, he realized; it's injured. Shouldn't that make it more desperate for food?

Slowly, slowly, the dark-skinned man reached his hand up to brush the wolf's coarse fur, but the contact seemed to jerk the creature back into itself. Snarling, it leapt away from him, muscular body propelling it across the winter snow. Iruka scrambled to his feet. "Wait!" he called, but it had already vanished over a hill.

As he walked back to the cabin, he found that whenever he tried to pinpoint the reason for his crying out, the wolf's single eye glittered vibrantly, intelligently, in his mind. What are you doing here? thought Iruka. Who are you?

* * *

Sleep eluded him that night, though the cabin was warm and comfortable. Wired, turbulent, his mind jumped from one moment of the encounter to the next, always circling back to the blood on the wolf's chest and stomach and the strange, intelligent glint in its eye. Nothing of this magnitude, nothing so strange and near-mystical in nature, had ever crossed his path in all the years he'd lived; nor had death come so close since his parents' premature departure. He found himself worrying for the creature in place of himself. Nothing could survive an Aspenglow winter with an injury like that…not even a wolf. After rotating for the eightieth time in his bed, Iruka dragged himself from under the grip of his flannel sheets to layer himself in coat after coat. Luckily, his boots had long since dried on the fireplace; he slipped them on mechanically, wondering what madness could possibly justify his venturing into a night this frigid. But whatever it was, it demanded he bring a first-aid kit with him.

The winter air almost stripped Iruka of his unconscious resolve. It was cold enough to make his eyes water and freeze in the same moment, the sting of which made him squint and suck in an ice-laced breath. Wrapping his arms about himself, Iruka nevertheless forged ahead, footfalls melting into pools of light blue shadow as he made his way across the snow towards the forest. As he reached the timberline, however, he realized that he had no idea where to begin searching. Aspenglow, a large and dangerous mountain, could only swell in both respects under the veneer of night; to what kind of danger would wandering blindly in the woods lead? In spite of the apparently hopeless predicament, Iruka tried to inject a dose of logic into his racing mind. If I were an injured wolf, he asked himself, where would I go? Someplace warm, someplace quiet; most likely near food…

At that, the young man paused. He was moving in the wrong direction.

Broken glass shards and drops of blood dotting the ground around his wood shed confirmed Iruka's suspicions. The creature, lacking strength enough to flee an adequate distance, had likely circled back after bolting from him earlier that morning and climbed the snowdrift heaping near his shed in order to gain entry to the structure's quiet and relatively warm interior. Heart pounding, Iruka clutched the doorknob and pushed, knowing what he would see before he did so. The wolf— i his /i wolf, he couldn't help but think—was sprawled on the bark-spattered shed floor. Gory wound appearing even darker under the contrast of moonlight, its chest rose and fell only slightly, attesting to the severity of its condition. It was far too weak to snap at Iruka as the young man knelt by its side. First-aid kit in grasp, Iruka gritted his teeth and set to work.

His hands were numb and caked with dry blood by the time the sun peaked over the horizon, and the wolf was still unconscious, though its breathing seemed more regulated than before. Iruka found himself using his coat as a method for dragging the creature across the snowy expanse that lead to his house. Though half-starved, it was far heavier than it looked, and he nearly collapsed after managing to carry it up the steps and lay it in front of the hearth's dying embers.

"I hope," murmured Iruka, "you don't try to kill me for this." He sank onto the couch across from the wolf's resting spot and drifted easily into slumber as, outside, Aspenglow awoke. His departure brought dreams of his parents, and of a beast's glinting eye.

Said eye watched him intently as he slept.

* * *

His name was Kakashi, though those on Aspenglow knew him by Sakumo, his sire's moniker. More of a title than anything, it annoyed him in most ways, but the wolf had never truly cared enough to correct the ignorant creatures who used it. He was not so weak that he needed them to define his identity. He did, however, need them for food, and it seemed almost predictable that they did not provide him with such. Kakashi did not think of himself as cruel—though most of the beings he hunted were self-aware, they were also stupid; he simply had little patience for stupid things.

Humans were a people of which he knew little and cared for less. So far as he could tell, they were all arrogant in their blindness to the world around them; intelligence made them tricky, fear made them cruel, but by nature, they were merely weak. He only needed avoid them until recently. He, like all predators, was driven by the ever-present need for a food source, and the lack of such had led him to desperation. Any fool would attack a human in such a situation, but it took a special fool to fail in procuring a meal for the trouble. Kakashi had done both, and he hated himself for it despite the fact that his particular circumstances made such inaction justifiable. The wound, however, was the result of simple carelessness. During a confrontation with a stray German Shepherd, the dog had taken advantage of a moment's distraction to sink its teeth into Kakashi's lower neck. Though it had taken little effort to retaliate and drive it off, the gash it left him had proved a large factor in his decision to jump the human. He could only go injured and without food for so long, after all. However, somehow, by the strangeness that was his life, said decision led him to wake in a dwelling that veritably oozed humanity through its clean but sheltered pores. Almost more troublesome was the realization that the very human he had attacked was responsible for the change in scenery as well as the bandages about his middle. Damn them all and their meddling, he seethed in spite of the fire's pleasurable heat. I should have torn his throat out when I had the chance.

Still, all things considered, the human had saved him considerable trouble. He'd little desire to take on his true form for something so petty as pilfering medical supplies. To his kind, pride was nearly as important as health, and the last thing the wolf needed were snotty little mice whispering of how Sakumo's heir had shed his wolf-skin just to lick his wounds. Being helped by a human, however, was almost as shameful, and it left him at an impasse. He could theoretically kill the young man now, but such a measure would prove fundamentally unjust in addition to difficult—despite his own nonchalance, Kakashi was all too aware of the weakness blood loss had thrust on him. It ruled out fleeing the scene as well. For now, the wolf decided, he could only wait.

A day passed, during which time Kakashi grudgingly allowed the human to change the bandages winding about his slowly-healing cut twice. The man spoke few words during those long, slightly invasive sessions, which suited the wolf just fine. He would much rather observe the human in silence.

However, on the second night, his rescuer told him, "My name is Iruka."

Kakashi didn't care. He did care, however, that the human moved gracefully, assured in spite of his weakness; that his hands were long and skilled; that his skin was dark and warm as the flank of a stag; and that his eyes were large and sweet, hiding nothing from his. It was better that his potential captor proved unable to fight back or lie; in the event that Kakashi would have to kill him, he preferred it be a relatively struggle-free affair.

After all, the warmth of a house—and of some human's gaze—was nothing in comparison to the freedom offered by his wilderness. Above all else, he wanted to return. Wolves, no matter how unique, knew where they belonged. By the end of the week, he would be gone, and the human would be left alone once more.

Or so he told himself.


	2. Part II

**Title:** Aspenglow [Part II  
**Fandom/ Pairing:** Naruto/ KakaIru  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warnings:** Slash, AU  
**Notes:** Written for theKakaIru LiveJournal Christmas song challenge; "Aspenglow"

* * *

Head colds, mild but nevertheless affecting, were something of a tradition for Iruka come the holidays. Seven days prior to Christmas found the young man waking to aches in his body and a hot pounding behind his eyes, the presence of which induced a small groan in his very sore throat. Had he been any less than used to seasonal ailments, he might have rolled over and slept the day away, but Iruka had long since discovered that it was better for all involved if he simply blundered through them rather than waste a day convalescing. It was not as though his daily chores were physically strenuous, and he now had another who depended on him. Resolute under that knowledge, he dressed himself and faced the day, only to discover that he was not the only one suffering; the wolf, in an effort to raise itself from the ground, had reopened its wound and now lay sprawled as rusty blood soaked the bandages. Iruka froze on the staircase, as though mesmerized by the occasional flickers of firelight cast across the creature's prone form. Then, he sighed. 

"You didn't yelp or anything," he murmured, kneeling next to his charge. "I wonder if you feel pain." A never-ending bandage supply in hand, he began to gently repair the damage wrought by the injured party. Neither his voice nor his soft administrations induced a reaction in the animal, which he took as a sign that it was slowly becoming used to both. However, Iruka next made a mistake in giving a small, but rather unexpected, sneeze.

The reaction was instantaneous. He barely had enough time to think a few choice expletives before the wolf, startled and deadly, lashed out, twisting its injured body about to slice Iruka's moving hand with its teeth. The young man heard a gasp of pain, however animalistic, escape the creature before he uttered one of his own, stumbling back before returning his gaze to the wolf.

"Don't do that! You'll tear it again!" The addressed paid very little mind to his caretaker's sound advice. Lips pulled back, it growled, body trembling as it paced a shaky perimeter in front of Iruka, who resisted the urge to shrink toward the wall. Its dark blood dripped upon the wooden floor in time with his own.

"Are you really so frightened of me?" quavered the young man, spreading his open fingers in a gesture of peace. If anything, this only infuriated the wolf further; it snarled, redoubling its growls. Iruka shook his head. "I don't understand…I've fed you, kept you warm, taken care of your injuries. Have I been wrong? Is it so unnatural…?" To Iruka's own surprise and despair, tears welled in his vision and voice. He swiped at them. "I-If that's…that's so, I guess y-you wouldn't be unjust-tified. It's n-not the first time I've…"

Biting his lip, he tried not to break down. His knees hit the wood floor quietly as his shoulders quivered under the weight of unshed tears. He did not notice the sudden absence of outraged rumblings until a lull in his sobs washed over him a minute later. Upon finally glancing upward, the young man gasped to see that the wolf was less than a foot from him, though its gaze was not trained on his face, but his hand. A miniscule stir of air made his wound sting as the beast sniffed it; then calmly, almost absently, it lapped the blood from his fingers.

As natural as daylight, Iruka thought. The wolf's fur was course but warm on his buried face.

* * *

He did not know why he'd done it. Certainly, there were a multitude of justifications from which Kakashi could pick, the most reasonable being his need to keep the human stable so that he would continue to provide him with food and medical care, but that still didn't ring true in the wolf's rushing mind. Not knowing his own motivations annoyed him. He was a predator, ruler of his territory and life; a lack of assuredness or self-awareness could only hinder him. He realized, deep down, that he carried more pride in him than most, but that too was necessary given his position. No human should have the ability to change that. Still, he had to give the young man—Iruka, he corrected himself grudgingly—credit for his unexpected resilience. Fear had not kept him from rectifying the damage from their previous encounter. Both wounds were doctored and bandaged, the blood cleaned from the area, and now he puttered about the kitchen, browning a pan of beef for Kakashi and humming as though nothing had ever happened. Fresh wood had even found its way into the fireplace. Maybe it wasn't resilience after all, reflected the wolf. Maybe it was simple stupidity. That seemed easier to believe, somehow. 

Water ran, and the man appeared in the doorway with his meat. "Lunch," he said, and placed a dish in front of Kakashi. As the wolf began to eat, Iruka sneezed again, which would have made Kakashi roll his eyes were he in his true form. Humans had no survival instincts, he reflected. Wasn't there medicine for ailments like this? Still, it didn't concern him.

Eventually, the young man fell asleep on the couch, curled like a pup against its plush interior. Kakashi watched him for longer than he'd intended, sharp golden eye surveying him critically as he tried to ignore a sudden tug in his chest. The wolf attributed the sensation to restlessness. Turning his gaze toward a window, a shock of longing overtook him, setting fire to his veins. He had to move or at least breathe the chill winter air—his lifeblood—but he knew that there was only one way he could do so.

It was not a large thing to shed his wolf-skin; there was little mysticism in the process, though the change was instantaneous. Perhaps the only evidence of so-called magic came when he had completely stepped from his animal stance and into that of a young but hearty man. His furred skin seemed to melt from him in a wash of gray luster, replaced by dark pants and an overcoat which was military in style but torn and ripped in a testament to Kakashi's true, wild nature. Though he hissed to feel the wound on his chest stretch to accommodate the new flesh, he found it far easier to move given the structure of his human form. With a final glance over his shoulder at Iruka, he carefully slipped out the porch door, heavy combat boots belying the soft footfalls they produced.

For a while, it was satisfying enough to simply gaze upon the frigid white dunes which sloped up the mountain, providing a sharp contrast to bare, ink-black trees marking the forest's edge. Kakashi scented the ice-dusted air—though humanity dulled his perceptive abilities, he could detect the presence of other creatures well enough, and he recognized one now. "Genma," he said, his own deep voice strange with disuse. "Come out from under there; I can sense you even in this state."

"_And what a sorry state it is,_" came a derisive reply. There was the smallest of movements, and a bobcat slipped into view, perching upon the snowy railing of Iruka's porch. "_What the hell happened to you? The mice are saying you were beaten by some yappy mutt from the human city_."

"Mice are liars. It was a dog, purebred, and I killed it." growled Kakashi.

The bobcat began to wash its paw. "_What makes you think I believed them? And since when did you care?_" It gazed at him piercingly. "_I'm more concerned with what's come after said fight. Didn't know you took up dens with humans. Your own pack not good enough?_"

"You know that even if I wanted one, there aren't many of my kind on this mountain." Resisting the urge to bare his teeth, knowing the effect would be lost in his current form, Kakashi simply glared. His feline companion was undeterred.

"_So find some dumb bitch and get to making some. Us and humans…it's not natural. Wrecks the divine order of things or whatever._"

For the briefest of moments, Kakashi saw Iruka's tearful face again. Before he truly registered it, he was reaching for the knife at his belt and snarling, "I do not recall asking for your opinion, _cat_. Out of my sight!" The blade whistled harmlessly into a snow drift, and Genma was gone, sprinting into the woods with an outraged hiss. Kakashi's breath came out in sharp, winded puffs, and after a moment of seething, he retrieved his throwing knife from the ground.

He heard the knob turn just in time. Slipping back into his wolf-skin, Kakashi pivoted to face Iruka, who was framed by the warm light behind the threshold and looking more than a bit confused. A short interval of silence passed between them before Iruka broke eye contact. "How did you…? I locked the door."

Damn, thought Kakashi. At least he hadn't been seen. The human shook his head as though trying to let his question go before glancing his way and asking, timorously, eyes wide and honest:

"Will you leave now?"

Would he indeed. It would be difficult, but not impossible, to live on his own at this point; he had survived worse, certainly. But the look the human gave him could have very well rendered him immobile. It would have been better if he had turned out to be one of those evil humans. I think I hate this, reflected the wolf. Does he not see that I am no dog to be tamed and coddled? Angry at the entire situation, Kakashi turned back towards the woods.

He heard Iruka shift behind him. "I see," he whispered. "Please take care. I don't think you're totally well yet…"

It was then that Kakashi noticed Genma's tracks in the snow for the second time. Remembering the condescending manner of the bobcat's speech—"_So find some dumb bitch…_"—his frustration found another outlet entirely. Iruka's eyes were wide as the wolf changed direction yet again, this time climbing haughtily up the steps to push into the warm cabin. He would stay a bit longer. After all, proving that insolent Genma wrong was worth a few more days with a human. Why, though, did said human have to act so pleased that he had chosen to return? I am not your dog, he thought again, vowing as he laid by the hearth: By the time this is over, _I_ will own _you_.


	3. Part III

**Title:** Aspenglow [Part III  
**Fandom/ Pairing:** Naruto/ KakaIru  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warnings:** Slash, AU  
**Notes:** Written for the KakaIru LiveJournal Christmas song challenge; "Aspenglow"

* * *

The wind was his ally; it urged him forward, sweeping flurries his direction as he tore across the forest floor on swift feet that barely skimmed the earth. Heady with adrenaline and the burning in his muscles, Kakashi did not pause and did not slow. Obstacles—a fallen log, a sharp limb protruding at a deadly angle—were mere scenery against the sheer force of his will and speed. He was a being of thunder and lightning, powerful and swift and free as a winter storm; creature, predator, force. A wolf on the hunt. The aspen trees sang encouragement in their clear, quiet trills, affirming his lot in life: to chase with all his soul and, eventually, to kill so that it might survive to hunt another day. He was close, now, so close that he could taste flesh of his prey in its heady scent, the roar in his ears driving him ever faster. It was there, he had found it! The aspens needed only recede from their mystical huddle around his quarry, and, without seeing or stopping, Kakashi pounced upon the thing which he had run so far to catch. 

Even as he bit into the muscle and tissue of his fallen victim, however, the wolf knew something was wrong. The flesh rotted in his mouth, its blood burning as it dripped upon the snow. His single eye focused on the mauled profile before him. Suddenly maddened, weak and all-too-human, he retched upon the ground, gaze filled with Iruka gasping in front of him, not dead but still _eaten_…

Kakashi woke to the sound of gagging, and, for a heart-stopping moment, thought it his own. But no, he was still in wolf form, lying unmoving near the fireplace. It was another who was panting between sicknesses. Careful not to disturb his wound for another time, the wolf rose shakily, banishing the nightmare to the back of his mind in favor of searching out the human. His claws clicked delicately against the wooden steps as he ascended, eyes trained on a chink of light spilling from the restroom. Kakashi drew up next to it and heard Iruka's unmistakable coughs. He poked his head into the small room. The human was on his knees in front of the commode, body sweat-soaked and trembling with such intensity that Kakashi almost felt wary of him. However, doubling over, the young man retched again, and the wolf realized that he was simply very ill.

A long time passed before the human took notice of his visitor. He gave a weak smile upon seeing Kakashi. "Hey, boy," he murmured. "Did I wake you?"

Boy? Offended, Kakashi receded and began to make his way back to the hearth, but a fresh bout of coughing made him pause at the staircase. Perhaps the human had not meant to address him as such, given his weakened state. Perhaps he had merely been mistaken for a childhood pet. With the haunting dream yet fresh in his mind's eye, the wolf made his decision: Iruka was out of his head and did not intend to be insulting. He could—and did—return to his side with dignity.

He found the human washing his face and mouth in the sink, upright but still unsteady. Drawing up next to him, Kakashi was suddenly bearing a large portion of Iruka's weight as the human stumbled and caught himself on Kakashi's sturdy frame. He pushed back quickly. "Oh…Sorry."

Stoic, the wolf nudged his hand toward the door.

"It's never been this bad," mumbled Iruka, taking the wolf's advice and heading back to his bedroom, one palm braced against the wall for support. Beside him, Kakashi gave a mental snort—believe whatever you need to, human—and all but dragged him into the dim sanctuary, where half-soaked bed sheets, crumpled and askew, gave him pause until Iruka collapsed uncaringly onto the mattress. The wolf backed up to observe as the human curled into a weak ball. He was yet shaking and looked to be in pain, but he would survive, wouldn't he? Had Kakashi not fulfilled his obligations? Of course he had. The wolf exited the room, unrepentant. Or so he told himself.

* * *

Iruka's previous statement was truthful: in the many winters he had suffered through his colds, none had ever proved as severe as the one with which he now dealt. The world grew hot and hazy soon after the wolf left him, pain and nausea making him sluggish and heavy as he writhed in his own perspiration. Distorted memories and dreams were his only refuge. The visions danced before his eyes as though attempting to draw him from the fever's torment. He saw his mother and father cuddling on the very couch which now sat in his living room, the wolf's intelligent gaze gleaming in spite of the demonic snarl it wore, the stares of so many people in town: immoral, they pronounced him, unnatural. Why couldn't he simply melt before their icy judgment froze him in his tracks? Tears carved canyons on his burning cheeks; undoubtedly there would be scars. "Mother," he begged, wishing for the coolness of her hand. "Father, please…" 

And then a hand did come, seizing him roughly by the shoulder and all but dragging him to his feet. He loosed a small groan, only to be rebuked with a low snarl. "Quiet," said an unfamiliar voice. Then, "Get in."

In where? wondered Iruka stupidly before he heard the shower's rushing hiss. There was no steam, however, no warmth that he could sense. He opened his mouth to protest, but found himself shoved, still clothed, under a stream of water so cold it made him yelp. His eyes flew open only to be blinded by the restroom's golden light. Gripping him by the back of his neck, the stranger's hand held him in full force of the shower despite Iruka's struggling.

"Do you want to get your core temperature down or not? You aren't a mewling child, and I will not lower myself to treat you as such." the voice came again. Iruka forced himself to calm down, though his shivering redoubled. His hair had long since fallen from its customary ponytail and hung limp at his shoulders, smoothed and darkened by the water. He tried again to get a good view of the strange person's face, only to have soap poured indiscriminately over his head.

"H-Hey!"

"You stink worse than a badger in heat." There was a touch of annoyance but no outright spite in the stranger's tone. Iruka felt his shirt pulled from him then, the buttons of his pajamas clinking against the tile floor. The action was oddly tender, or at least it struck Iruka as such. He relaxed a little. "Take off the rest."

He tried, but the floor was too slippery and his balance was skewed in the first place. Losing his footing for a moment, he caught himself against a hard, broad chest that seemed to be wrapped with bandages. He paused in fevered shock, cold water forgotten. "Is that…?" he wondered aloud, but all too soon the hand found a nerve at the back of his neck, and he slipped into darkness once more.

* * *

It would be far easier this way, Kakashi told himself for the thousandth time as he tossed the limp human, still wet from the shower, onto his freshly-made bed. Unconsciousness meant less questions, fewer chances of being seen. Ruined pajamas aside, nothing would be that different; Iruka could easily chalk the whole affair up to a fever-induced fantasy, and Kakashi would make damn sure that he would have no reason to think otherwise. Still, he cursed his own carelessness; was he such a fool that he could not think to cover the one thing that might draw parallels between his human and wolf forms? 

"Idiot," he growled, pulling the human back into a sitting position. The man was still shivering. He had to dry him off, or the shower would only make things worse, he reflected, grudgingly fetching a towel. The hair was first; he twisted it, rubbing harshly from roots to tips in an effort to wring out the excess moisture. A low rumble reached Kakashi's sensitive ears, but it didn't surprise him: he had smelled the oncoming storm long before it announced itself.

"Do you hear that, human?" he whispered, yanking at the addressee's damp locks. "A blizzard is approaching. Perhaps I was wise to remain with you after all, no matter how much trouble you cause me." He moved the towel to Iruka's neck and back. The human's skin was smooth and soft as a pup's down fur, dark and rich and earthy in coloring. It seemed to flicker with warmth and life. Eye narrowed as he looked at the bare body, the wolf found himself splaying a gloved hand over Iruka's navel. He growled at the little moan his action produced in the human, and, standing quickly, he paced and hissed curse after curse. "Fool. Fool!" Veritably shoving Iruka into a fresh set of pajamas, the wolf covered him before storming from the room, shifting to his animal form as he fell onto the hearth. However, neither the change in scenery nor the change in species halted his swirling thoughts. He instead directed them down other paths.

Unlike most lone wolves, Kakashi remembered something of his father. Though his firsthand recollections were few—an odd image of Sakumo trotting in the lonely light of morning, serious gaze holding his—the fame his father accumulated on Aspenglow lent to an abnormally complete picture of him. He had been strong, alpha material even, though expelled from his pack for reasons on which only the birds dared speculate. His muzzle had long since greyed by the time Kakashi came into the picture. That had been highly suspicious in itself, as there had been no female wolves on Aspenglow at the time of his birth.

Later, whispered the birds, a human woman had drowned herself in the mountain lake.

Kakashi turned over, fury redoubling as a realization raked like claws through his mind. How could he not have made the connection? How could he not have known that he, though sired by one of the mightiest hunters on Aspenglow, had been birthed by a human? He had never thought to pay attention to rumors, never assumed that a grain of truth might within the inane chatter and speculation. Unnatural, Iruka had called himself. Well, this makes two of us, the wolf thought a tad hysterically, rising in human form only to open the door. He was a silver blur across the snow, legs pounding as he ran from the warmth, from the human, from his memories, and from himself.

It was five days before Christmas, and the aspens were silent.


	4. Part IV

**Title:** Aspenglow Part IV  
**Fandom/ Pairing:** Naruto/ KakaIru  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warnings:** Slash, AU  
**Challenge:** Written for the KakaIru LiveJournal Christmas song challenge; "Aspenglow"  
**Notes:** A certain reviewer, DarkSapphireDragon, wished to know my reasons for picking Kakashi's particular human clothing. I can only say that, in addition to said clothing appealing to my aesthetics, I felt a military-style jacket would help emphasize his pride and warrior-like ideals. However, as Kakashi is hardly obedient to any sort of higher authority, I made the clothes slightly tattered to show his rebellious side. As for their color…well, black is just cool.

* * *

Flushed red, Iruka's face was the picture of panic as he tore over his property, trajectory shifted this way and that by a steadily building wind. He still felt woozy, but illness was nothing in comparison to the worry that choked him, constricting the rate at which his pale breath escaped into the air. The door to the wood shed flew open, and his brown eyes scanned its interior desperately, hoping to catch a glimmer of silver fur in the dark. None greeted him. There were only pine and aspen logs, the scent of which stung his eyes until they watered. A moment of raw emotion found Iruka hating the smell. He made his way quickly back across his lawn, though hopelessness was quick to slow him as he reached the forest's perimeter. What are you looking for? It's gone, a mental voice whispered. It doesn't need you anymore. Are wolves not meant to run free on their own path? Are they not meant to come and go as they wish? It was merely an animal, and animals must wander.

In spite of the logic the silent voice imparted, an ache welled in Iruka's chest as he stared into the forest beyond the fast-falling snow. The wolf had seemed so human, though, he argued; it wasn't fully healed either. To depart now would be foolish of it.

That "humanity" was a product of your loneliness, snapped his sardonically logical half. You hadn't exactly been providing for it during the two days you were throwing up your intestines.

Its point only made Iruka feel worse, more desperate for the wolf to return to his side. He moved toward the woods in spite of his inner monologue's protests:

You're ill. You can't go out in that!

Iruka ignored it, and took off at a run. The going proved especially difficult at the outset, given the sloping hill which made up the first part of the forest, but his straining muscles melted under the sheer force of his willpower. His eyes scanned the area, no detail missed on the trees or ground which seemed to fly past his vision. Snow, falling delicately but with increasing speed, covered his world in a veneer of loneliness and mystery. Even this scenery that Iruka had gazed upon for thousands of times was transformed with winter, each passing season rendering it different as the snowflakes it brought. With such strange beauty, with such wonders, Iruka reflected, would it be so impossible for a wolf to possess a shred of humanity, or for a human to love that wolf? He didn't know a great deal about the world. He didn't know a great deal about himself. The only thing he did know was that he could never stop running, could never stop searching, for the wolf was all he had. If the creature did not want to remain, Iruka needed to know firsthand, so he would never be weighed down by those two dreaded shards of doubt: _What if?_

Will and the stamina to maintain it were two different things, however. He only had so much strength in his already-weakened state; an addition of cold made him pause to catch his breath. It was then that logic caught up with him. He was unsure where he should even begin to look. This scenario was hardly like his first encounter with the wolf, during which time it was injured, desperate, and easy to predict. The creature could be anywhere by now, and he had no way of knowing whether simply calling or whistling would give him any clues.

"I don't even know if he answers to a name…" Iruka whispered, and, to his shock, someone answered him.

"Kakashi."

Eyes wide, Iruka pivoted in time to see a young man literally drop from a nearby tree, landing as gracefully as a cat on the snow bank below it. His eyes were bright and slit with concentration, the wind pushing his shoulder-length hair in haphazard directions. A toothpick hung lazily from his lip, as did an Army Surplus jacket from his shoulders. Straightening, he revealed that he wasn't much taller than Iruka. "He's called Kakashi. I assume you're looking for him. Wolf with an attitude problem?" After a moment's pause, Iruka nodded. "Bastard almost skinned me the other day. Guess he's finally snapped. That's what hanging with humans can do to you."

"You…you've seen him?" Iruka almost had to shout over the wind, unlike the newcomer, whose voice seemed pitched so that he only needed to speak normally to be heard.

"Not since he came tearing through here yesterday morning, no. But hazarding a guess, I'd say he's at the lake."

"Lake Redden?"

The man grinned through his toothpick. "If you like. Most of us call it Tsume, though." His knowing smirk only made Iruka angry.

"What do you mean, 'us'? How do you know him?" he demanded, marching forward to look the stranger square in the eye. To his satisfaction, the humor left his face. "Are you some kind of zookeeper or something? If you even try to lock him up, I'll…"

A sharp slap knocked him to the snowy earth. "Oh, yeah, what will you do, human? Take him back to your own cage?" Yanked up by his coat collar, Iruka found his face entirely too close to the stranger's, whose teeth were needle sharp. "You don't know jack shit about us, and you sure as hell don't know shit about Kakashi. I owe him a favor, but here's a free piece of advice: stay away and leave him to his own kind. There's no comfort a human can give a wolf. He left you because he realized that—and not a moment too soon, I say. So go back to your nice little box and keep your meddling to your own species."

Releasing his collar, the stranger turned to vanish into the blizzard, leaving the human on the ground behind him. The wind picked up, blowing colder than ever, and tears flowed in rivers from Iruka's eyes, stinging the place where he'd been struck, which, for some reason, had resulted in three thin scratches rather than a simple welt. He gripped the snow under his hands. He was tired—tired of struggling, tired of running, tired of trying to justify what he didn't even understand. However, he was also tired of giving in. Just before the stranger dissolved completely into the whiteness of the snowstorm, Iruka took aim, and threw the hardest snowball he'd ever packed. It struck, and he saw him whirl.

"I don't care!" Iruka howled over the gale. "I don't care what you think is natural or unnatural. I don't care whether or not he hates me! But if he feels it's wrong for me to care, then damn it, he'll let me know himself!" He was standing then. Despite the rage in the stranger's eyes, Iruka continued to shout, railing against every disparaging gaze, every judgment that had ever been passed on him. "I can't stand people like you! What do you know about what he wants? You're just thrusting your own stupid ideals on—"

"Our world was _created_ by those ideals!" the stranger hissed, suddenly looking more like an animal than a human, which, for some reason, didn't surprise Iruka in the least

"Your world," he corrected through gritted teeth. "Not mine." With those words, it was his turn to show his back, and he vanished into the storm.

* * *

Lake Redden, a natural reservoir near the foot of Aspenglow, had frozen many times over the years and, as result, had carved out a small valley around its banks. The wind was therefore calmer where Kakashi sat, shifting unconsciously from human to wolf-form as he stared, motionless, at the silvery, half-solid lake. His snow-dusted hair shifted, dribbling ice down to his skin, but he was not as cold as his mother had undoubtedly been in the moments—or even minutes—before her lungs filled and froze. The images replayed themselves over and over in Kakashi's mind, as did countless speculations regarding the human who had birthed him. Perhaps she had been young, too young for excess blood, the result of a long and difficult labor, to course down her thighs and fall in drops on her bare feet. Had that same blood clotted the fur of a wolf pup? Had she been driven mad upon seeing an animal emerge from her body, rather than the squirming human she had expected, or had she been half-mad long before his birth? Her parents might have cast her out simply because she had lain with a man—they did that often enough, and such rejection could certainly have robbed her of sense or hope. Humans were social creatures after all, generally drawing their sense of self-worth from their peers. It was the same with wolves. Kakashi realized that his mother's case was not so vital to the formulation of his self-image as was the fact that he was, in truth, like neither of the species whose forms he could adapt. He was not social; he did not feel the need for others' approval; all he truly longed for was the validity of a moment, the feeling of doing something all-encompassing and purposeful. Similar to a thrilling pursuit and kill but somehow far more significant, that sensation was what he had been chasing his entire life, though he had failed to recognize it when it presented itself. It was the mark of a hunter and an independent thing, neither human nor entirely wolf-like. In this way, he could only be himself. Where did he go from here, though? Where was there left for him to truly live? Despair overtook him at the hopelessness of it all, and he closed his eyes.

A sudden rush of noise made Kakashi's fur stand on end. As a wolf, he rose, lips pulled back in a defensive growl.

"There you are," said Iruka. Disbelief redoubled the wolf's snarls. The man walked unsteadily toward him, shivering as he pushed snow from his shoulders. There was a soft, tired smile in his mouth and eyes and three dripping cuts on his face. "Kakashi. That's it, right? Come on; let's go home."

"Get away from me." Humanity swept him like a winter wind, and he was a little more than eye level from the human, knife brandished. Iruka's eyes widened, but he did not move. "Why are you here, human? I don't need you. I don't want you."

Hurt flashed in the young man's gaze, making something twist in Kakashi. "I…you just left, so I wanted to see whether…something had happened to you."

"Is that all?"

"Why did you spare me that day? You wanted to kill me. Why didn't you?" Iruka took a step forward, palms out in surrender. "I just want to know."

Kakashi gave a cruel, hopeless sneer. "You're a bigger fool than I took you for, if satisfying your petty curiosity is so important."

"That's not it!" A sudden raise in the human's voice made him tense. He curled his lip, and Iruka looked almost guilty. He studied his gloved hands. "It's not the knowing that's so important. It's…it's just you." His tone went soft, tearful. "Just you. I know it was you who helped me when I was sick. Even if you don't respect me, I know you at least think of me as more than food. As far as information goes, that's all I really need…"

By fang and tail, Kakashi thought as he gaped at the human. He's crying. Iruka was, indeed, swiping at his eyes like a child as he choked, "I just didn't want you to go, I guess. Maybe you don't need me like you say. I…I'd really like to say it doesn't matter, but I do care…more than I probably should—"

"And you talk far too much."

It was a strange thing, hearing that someone wanted him in any shape, form, or fashion. Even stranger was the change those honest words could induce in Kakashi. Unable to identify that change, he had long since allowed himself draw up in front of Iruka, long since allowed his all-too-human hands to tweak the human's chestnut mane as his face settled into something both proud and resigned. "Far too much," he said again. "Now. Let's go."

"Huh?"

This time, Kakashi did roll his eye. "I must show you the path to your own dwelling, now?"

"N-No." There was a thread of some strange joy in the human's voice, a happiness that Kakashi had never before encountered. "I'm coming."

However, the human had already shifted into a beast, and could not reply. Together, they left the lakeside behind in favor of walking a path homeward, each step bringing them closer to a future of their choosing.


	5. Part V

**Title:** Aspenglow: Part V  
**Fandom/ Pairing:** Naruto/ KakaIru  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warnings:** Slash, AU  
**Notes:** Written for the KakaIru LiveJournal Christmas song challenge; "Aspenglow"

* * *

Time bore the snowstorm away on its ever-flowing rivers and left only stillness in its wake. Mt. Aspenglow, wreathed in evidence of the blizzard, reflected pale gray light into the winter sky even as the sun forced its way through a rolling mass of clouds. To Genma, the ashen glow was like a subtle discoloration on the fur of a great beast, and he moved as though attempting to avoid this beast's gaze, keeping to the shadows as he padded silently over the forest floor. The bobcat left very few tracks in the pristine snow, so accustomed was he to concealing his path from potential enemies or prey. His posture was not that of a hunter, however, but of a searcher, bending all his considerable senses toward locating one individual. Angling down sharply, a forested hill sent him into a quicker, slightly sloppy pace, but the scent he tracked was far stronger by the time Genma reached the end of the slope, and he began to recognize the area. Though he was loath to do so, he slipped from his cat-skin and into his hated, but admittedly useful, human form. 

"Raidou!" His own voice sounded strange to him, loud and attention-grabbing as it was. "Get out here, Raidou. We have to talk."

Immediately after issuing the call, he reverted to his true form, waiting primly on the snow for his friend to stir. He was not kept long. Within two minutes, an abnormally slender brown bear came ambling from the thicker brush and woods, scars clotting the tissue about his muzzle and making Genma's stomach turn. The bear's eyes were smiling, however, his mood casual as he joked, "_It's been awhile since I've heard your human voice, Genma. It's an interesting change._"

"_I knew it. You're never asleep this time of year._" The bobcat resisted the urge to hiss at his companion, to tell him that he'd only taken that form to find his sorry ass. "_When you_ should_ be._"

"_But who would keep you company if I'm hibernating_? _And interesting things happen in the cold days, if the mice are to be believed._"

"_That's what I wanted to talk to you about._"

"_So it's true_?_ Kakashi has taken up a den with a human_?" Raidou seemed almost to be speaking to himself, and his comments made the cat hiss truly this time. Raidou smiled at his display. "_I assume _you_ had a few choice words to give him on the matter_."

"_Of course I did! He's lost his mind, Rai_!" spat Genma, pacing and kicking up snow. "_It's completely…wrong! Unnatural_…"

"_So is my lack of hibernation, but you don't seem as angry about that._ _Come this way; the trees will give us more cover. I dislike being out in the open like this._" Halting Genma's next comment with a small snort of air, the bear began to make his way back towards the forest's edge. Reluctantly, Genma trailed behind him, only speaking again when they were in the embrace of towering pines and aspens.

"_Your situation is different, though_," he said of Raidou's eccentricity. Hate flashed through the bobcat's eyes; he seemed to be remembering, and his friend did not miss either display of emotion.

"_Let me guess at what you're thinking_."

"_You always seem to know anyway_!"

Ignoring his outburst, the bear continued: "_I believe you think that I don't hibernate because of what happened to me the last time I did so, and that I should hate humans because of it_."

"_Should and don't, which I've yet to understand_!" Genma was pacing again, pain evident even in his feline eyes. He twitched frantically with each point. "_They burned you, Rai, for no good reason, and they would have trapped me afterward! I'd been able to ignore the cruelty of humans until I found you that day. If you won't hate them, I'll hate enough for the both of us_!"

"_That isn't the path you should take. I haven't. If anything…_" The bear turned his nose to the horizon, almost wistful. "_If anything, I understand more than ever that a shred of humanity may connect us all. Why do you think you and Kakashi and I have these gifts_?" With those words, Raidou allowed his form to shimmer, shifting into the body of a muscular but calm-looking young man with dark eyes and, of course, a webbing of scars across one side of his face. Genma blinked, resisting the urge to show his teeth at the abrupt change, and Raidou crouched to his level, though his eyes remained skywards. "It can only be a sign that some human ideal, some defining aspect, exists within us: perhaps the ability to go _against_ nature. Think: is it 'natural' for a bobcat to seek a bear's company?" He grinned at that, holding Genma's eyes with his own before raising them once more.

"Give Kakashi a bit of time, Genma. He's no pup. He can make his own decisions."

Looking at him, framed as he was by the pale winter sunlight filtering through the trees, Genma wondered if any other scarred human face could appear so strangely beautiful as Raidou's. He followed his friend's gaze to the treetops, and fancied he heard the aspens whisper or sing.

* * *

"I have killed." 

Iruka looked up, startled by the abrupt utterance which heralded the wolf's return. "What?" he stuttered. His dog-eared copy of _The Egyptian_ found itself placed face down on the coffee table as a thousand different scenarios flashed across his mind's eye, the most notable of which involved an errant hiker reaching an untimely demise at the end of a wolf's claws. He thought better of it when Kakashi snorted, gaze casual but blazing.

"Follow me." It was hardly a request. Iruka stood, noting Kakashi's almost instantaneous reversion to an animal's shape after he finished his command and how beautifully the fire spun gold from his normally steel-tinted fur. His cabin was shrouded in chinks of piercing shadow and pale winter light, almost hypnotically eerie in their contrast. The spell was broken when the human and wolf emerged into the winter chill, and Iruka found himself the target of yet another gaze. A stag, relatively small but well-proportioned, lay on its side in the glittering front lawn. Though it had a broken neck, its condition was otherwise pristine. The young man stared back at its dead eyes.

"Well?" Kakashi nearly snapped, suddenly human once more.

Iruka bit his lip. "You caught this…for me?"

"If you do not want it, I'll be more than happy to eat it myself."

Shaking his head, Iruka explained, "No, it's just… you don't have to go to this trouble; I can buy meat more easily."

"Fresh is better. It's bad enough that you cook it all."

The latter comment made the human blush for some reason. "It's healthier that way."

"It's disgusting and tastes like fire," countered Kakashi in a method of closing the matter. Catching Iruka's eyes, he narrowed his own appraisingly and gestured to the kill. "Is this not…pleasing to you, then?"

The addressee blinked. This was the most the wolf had spoken to him since their conversation at Lake Redden, and certainly the first time he had wasted words on something as superfluous as questions. Two anomalies such as these, combined as they were, made for a very taken aback human, but also, oddly, a happy one. His lips bloomed into a gentle smile.

"Actually," he replied, "I like it very much. Thank you."

It was impossible to gauge the wolf's mood as he nodded gravely in response, still gazing at him as though he were trying to decide whether an additional comment was worth the trouble. His intensity awoke nervousness in the human again, but this time, Iruka covered it by crouching down to observe the stag more closely. "He's pretty," the human found himself saying, reaching out to touch its shaggy winter coat. His hand was intercepted by Kakashi's.

"_It_ is merely meat, and good meat at that. Your human fodder denies you the richness you need." His fingers moved to encircle Iruka's wrist appraisingly. Flabbergasted, the human felt his face heat at the sudden contact, and marveled at the warm roughness of the palm against his arm. "As I thought; too thin," growled the wolf. He released Iruka with an abruptness that equaled his initial grasp, kneeling down to take up the stag by its hind legs. In all honesty, the young man was panicked, his wild imagination sprinting toward the worst possible meaning behind the statement. He'd heard the tales; he knew of what they warned. Surely—surely Kakashi wasn't planning on…

"Don't insult me with that look, human." His eyes were trained on him, scornful but also strangely hurt. "If I wanted to eat you, I would have done so long ago. Human flesh is not so fine that it warrants fattening before consumption."

The flush redoubled and Iruka's eyes jumped. "I didn't mean to…"

"Perhaps you have simply learned to fear. Don't feel ashamed." Kakashi's voice was flat, however, and he did not look back as he brought the deer toward the rear of the cabin—probably to clean it, Iruka reflected numbly. He found himself alone more quickly than he'd expected, and the suddenness of it made his skin prickle with a chill that suddenly seemed unbearable. It led him to wonder how large his mistake had been. Though Kakashi stayed a wolf more often than not, rarely opting for conversation, Iruka was beginning to distinguish two types of silences that could stretch between them. The first, like quiet snowfall, drifted easily as a contented sigh; it was a sign of balance and status quo which only hurtful thoughts, words, or actions could break, no matter how unwitting they were. That hush could be cold, but always gentle; this silence, on the other hand, forced them apart like a wall ice crystals: cutting, cold, and penetrable only at the risk of harm. Its simple presence was enough to cause the young man distress. I really screwed up, he reflected pityingly. Kakashi would surely hate him now.

For a few minutes, he remained in the cold, as though his vigil could somehow cause time to pause or rewind, but he was forced inside when his fingertips grew numb. The house's warmth was an afterthought against the small, miserable darts of pain traversing the cavity in his chest. Mechanically, he tossed a few small logs onto the sputtering fire before moving into the kitchen. How long did it take to skin a deer, if that was even what Kakashi was doing? Should he prepare a recipe for venison, or begin to brown some chicken and beef? His mind wandered in indecision. Stupid; how could he have been so stupid as to think the wolf wanted to _eat_ him?

"This isn't Little Red Riding Hood," he muttered, bitterness threading its way through his voice for the first time in months. No sooner had the words left his mouth than the back door swung open, and Iruka heard the click of Kakashi's claws on the floor. The wolf entered the bright kitchen with a crude linen bag, bloody with residual gore, dangling from its jaws. He found it laden with the best cuts of meat.

"Have you eaten?"

The wolf did not even look at him, instead turning its powerful body and exiting as suddenly as he had come. The door creaked like so many snapping ice crystals as it shut behind the creature. Eyes stinging as though he'd been slapped, Iruka gripped the meat in his hands and allowed self-pity to overwhelm him. He wasn't hungry anymore.

* * *

The hunt had done plenty to wear on Kakashi's endurance. Game was especially rare this time of year, and a deer of that size had taken hours to track, not to mention the time he took in hauling the corpse back to the cabin. Kakashi was plenty exhausted by the end of the ordeal, but not so weary that he couldn't afford to wander a fragment of the surrounding forest afterward and—though he wouldn't have admitted it under the harshest torture—sulk. 

Whether kind or cruel, he reflected, humans were always, always vexing. It was an ever-consistent trait in their species. Even gentle ones like Iruka could send him into a whirl of inner turmoil the like of which he could not explain, all with a simple, insinuating look. The irony of his misunderstanding had not escaped the wolf; a week earlier, he might have been pleased with the fear the human had displayed. Had he not given reason for it at one point? However, if Kakashi had learned anything over the past few days, it was that even the firmest situations could shift in a moment, and running away from them changed very little.

He mulled over the notion of attempting to explain himself to the human, as the human had done for him at the lake. Truth be told, however, he felt that was against his nature. Wolves did not explain and certainly did not apologize for their actions. Though Kakashi realized he was not entirely a wolf, the prospect of going against that creed made him thoroughly uncomfortable. Surely giving the human a chance to explain himself would not be a violation of personal creed, though. With that reasoning firmly in place, Kakashi gathered himself and made his way back to the cabin in as dignified a manner as possible. Entering the front door as a human, he found Iruka waiting for him, sitting nervously in front of the fireplace.

"I'm so sorry!"

Startled, Kakashi jerked back out of instinct as Iruka all but bowed in front of him, babbling: "For what I said…I really am. It was just the first thing that popped into my mind; I know you'd never—I feel like such a hypocrite." He ran a hand through his hair. "I was just telling that man how he shouldn't stereotype humans, and here I am…"

"What man?" Kakashi blurted, and Iruka raised his head as though puzzled.

"W-When I was looking for you, I met someone. He told me you'd be at the lake. He called it a strange name, though."

Suspicion began to take root in the wolf's mind. "Tsume?"

"Y-…Yes. I think so. He acted like he knew you." Previous intentions all but forgotten, the human shifted nervously under his scrutiny. "He had a toothpick in his mouth."

"And he helped you?"

Iruka bit his lip as though remembering something unpleasant. The flicker of movement did not escape Kakashi's perceptive eyes. He snarled to himself and began to pace about the room. "Genma. He had no right…"

"It's not his fault, really! He was just angry; I think I would have hit me too." The wolf froze at the last comment, and Iruka, realizing he'd made a mistake, backpedaled. "Look, I mean…"

"He hit you?"

Iruka's hand was at his cheek in a guilty admission of the incident. "It isn't important."

"Of course it is!" Eyes blazing, Kakashi whirled, feeling more like he was facing an opponent than one who was in his good graces, and, for once, he struck with words in place of claws. "Do you think so little of me? Do you truly think I would share a kill with one whom I don't value enough to defend? Wolves are not so insincere as most humans. I have a debt to you, and I will pay it!"

"He was just worried about you," returned Iruka gently, though his voice quavered a bit out in the face of Kakashi's anger. "He doesn't trust humans; it's a problem we all have. That's why I feel so bad about what I said earlier. If it's a matter of trust, I'm just as guilty as he is."

Logic did not play a highly important role in Kakashi's life, not counting the most basic postulates such as _If you don't kill, you don't eat_. Hearing it from Iruka, however, shed a new aura of calm on the situation. The wolf suddenly felt very foolish. Resisting the urge to rake a hand through his knife-gray hair, he tried to find some way to break the silence without feeling superfluous.

"When I said that you were too thin, it was meant out of concern." Kakashi's voice had recovered its usual flat equilibrium. "I don't think you eat enough."

"My father used to say the same thing. But thank you," replied Iruka, toying with the end of his ponytail in an oddly endearing display of shyness. "I didn't think you… cared so much. Oh, that sounded bigoted, didn't it?" A nervous chuckle escaped him. "I'm sorry."

"There's no reason for apologies," Kakashi responded gruffly. He did not say, _Neither did I_.


End file.
